


Secrets, Secrets are no Fun

by carlestheninja



Series: Secrets [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: A lot - Freeform, Bookstore Assisstant Mangaer!Jean, Dead mom club, Drunkenness, Everyone lives, Explicit Language, F/M, I promise, I suck at tags, Lung Cancer, M/M, Marco likes flowers, Modern AU, Rich!Marco, Sexy times eventually, Suicide mention, Tattoos, Tattoos everywhere, also piercings everywhere, oh lord that's a horrible tag, one-night stand, quite a bit of fluff, sorta - Freeform, whole lot of potty words
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-18
Updated: 2015-07-19
Packaged: 2018-03-02 00:14:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2792789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carlestheninja/pseuds/carlestheninja
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean Kirschtein: the man who can't successfully go through with a one-night stand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Accidents Happen, Right?

We fucked.

I know, crude right. But that’s all we did. There were no leading into things, no taking things slow, it was just, BAM, sex. No monumental discovery of my love for this guy, whom I’ve never met before, sure he was cute, but love, or even like? Nope. We just fucked until we both passed out. I don’t know his name, he doesn’t know mine, and it’s going to stay that way. Hopefully.

Maybe I should explain a little. Back-story time, oh how I love a good back-story.

It’s really not all that complicated, honestly it’s not. It really all started when my girlfriend, of three years, dumped me for this douche-nozzle, Eren. Now, let me tell you about Eren Jaeger, I’ve known this asshole for 15 years. He used to be my best friend, that was until he told...something to the whole school in tenth grade. That something destroyed our friendship, how ever fragile it may have been. It also may have contributed to me being almost kicked out of school for beating the ever-loving shit out of him. He cried like the little bitch he was when I smashed my fist into his face with a satisfying crunch, thus breaking his nose. I swear he had it coming, with the shit that he spilled, yeah, he had it coming.

Fuck, I’m getting off topic. Anyway, Eren stole Mikasa two days ago, and that’s how I found myself at the bar two blocks from my apartment, drowning in tears and whiskey, almost the whole night. And of course that just happens to be the bar that Eren likes to go to, just my luck. I didn’t even bother looking at him and Mikasa sitting in a corner, practically swallowing each other, gross. I just kept my head up and walked out of the door. Okay, so maybe my head was bowed and I may have stumbled a bit, maybe a lot. I had had a lot to drink, okay? Geez. I didn’t even think as I tried to find another bar to go to.

As much as my alcohol muddled mind and lead feet told me that it was time to go home, a smaller, much stupider part of my mind said “Hey let’s go to Rose, that places seems fun!” And I swear to you I all but ran to the front door, almost missing the handle, subsequently almost running in to the glass of the door. Don’t fucking judge me, my girlfriend just dumped me, like the sack of shit that I am, no less than four hours before. Well that little part of my brain was right. Rose was fun, music pounded all around me, drinks were endless, and the people were hot, like fucking supermodel hot.

Now, I’ve never been one for labeling my sexuality as one certain thing, but if I had to choose one I’d probably label myself as pansexual. I mean, have you seen people? They’re fucking hot. Like seriously, girls? Hot. Boys? Hot. Non-binaries? Holy shit. People? Mother f-ing hot. And this club was full of people. But there was only one guy that caught my eye.

Oh, don’t give me that “but you just broke up with your girlfriend” bullshit. Ever heard of a rebound? It’s very common, I think.

Well this boy, I swear, he had freckles on every inch of his face, okay, maybe not that much, but it was pretty damn close to that amount. He was sitting alone at the bar, slowly stirring his drink. I also noticed something else, his eyes were swollen, and rimmed with red, like he had been crying for a while. And like the dumb-fuck that I am, I walked up to him.

“Hey.” Shit, that was so slurred, I might have been a tad bit drunker than I thought, oh well. I lightly tapped him on his right shoulder, at least I thought it was his right shoulder. “Are you OK?”

He jumped about a mile into the air, “W-what?” he stutters,and looks wildly around him, adorable. Wait, what?

“I asked if you were OK man?” I almost tripped over his stool as I clambered into the one beside him.

“Oh, um, yeah. I’m fine.” He put on the most plastic smile I have ever seen, shit, this guy is so not alright.

“You sure about that? ‘Cause I think that the little red rings around your pretty eyes, and that fake-ass smile, says otherwise.” I tried really hard not to slur every word, it worked, sort of.

He looked at me with such sadness in his eyes, plastic smile ever present, I couldn’t help but just reach out my hand and put it on one of his that was resting on the bar. He froze, but he didn’t pull away, he did lower his head though.

“Do you wanna talk about it with a drunk stranger who, in all seriousness, will most likely forget this whole thing?” I asked, keeping my hand on his.

“A-are you sure you want to hear my sob story?” He raises his head to look in my eyes, questioning my willingness to listen to a complete stranger. A very, very attractive stranger.

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.” I put on my widest grin and waited while he pondered my terms, “Gotta deal?”

He looked up at the ceiling, took a deep breath and with a sigh he answers, “Sure, we got a deal.” a real smile tugging at his lips. Then something akin to realization crosses his face, “But I don’t even know your name, you don’t know mine either. I’m M-”

I practically jump out of my seat and slam my hand over his mouth, he lets out a little yelp, “Nope, no don’t tell me your name, I don’t want to know. I’ll just call you ‘M’, is that cool with you?” What am I saying, of course I want to know his name, he’s gorgeous.

He looks at me with a quirked eyebrow, “Um, sure why not? What should I call you then?”

I immediately reply with, “‘J’, just call me ‘J’”

“It’s nice to meet you J,” I nod in acknowledgment as he continues, “where should I start? Well I had been dating this guy for upwards of five years, things were great, fantastic even,” he gives a small chuckle, then continues, “You could say that things were going too well even. We never fought, or argued, we just calmly talked everything out. I thought that maybe we were that one lucky couple that never argued about anything. He was great, everything about him was just perfect.” he pauses to take in a shuddering breath. “But then I found-I found him with someone else.” He stops completely to wipe his hand down his face, clearly trying to hold back tears, “I didn’t know what to do, so earlier today I confronted him, and you want to know what he said to me,” I nod silently, “He said that’s it’s been going on for three years. Three years!” At that he breaks down, upper torso completely crumpling to the bar’s top, silent sobs racking his body.

I feel almost completely sober as I watched a person I had just met sob into the bar. Oh shit, what do I do now? Don’t do something fucking stupid. Please

“My girlfriend left me, for the guy that I’ve hated for ten years,” Smooth, talk about your problems, don’t try to help him first. Dumb fuck.

“Really?” He peeked at me from the bar top. “When?”

“Two days ago.” I sniffle a little as I remember exactly how she did it. “She literally looked me in the eye and said that she had been fucking him for a good six months, then she walked away. No remorse whatsoever, absolutely nothing.” I felt my eyes heat up, threatening tears. Oh, great, now I’m crying.

Then ‘M’ did the strangest thing, he hugged me. He got up from his stool took the short step towards me and wrapped his long arms around me, gently squeezing. Now that he’s standing I can tell how tall he is---only about an inch taller than me.

“I’m sorry.” He said against my shoulder.

“What for?” I ask, as I hesitantly returned the hug.

“For everything you’ve been through, for everything I’ve been through.” he squeezed me just a bit tighter.

“I’m sorry too”

I’m almost 100% positive that we are getting several looks as we stood there hugging like two children, but I couldn’t care less. Someone has gone through what I had gone through, and I needed as much emotional support as possible at the moment. Which apparently meant pity sex on both our ends. I pitied him and he pitied me. We had both just gotten out of great relationships turned shitty, so we agreed that it would be just a one night thing. We got a few more drinks and then we left for my place. At this point I didn’t give a shit who received, I did if you were wondering, I just wanted something to get my mind off of things. And let me tell you, this guy was fantastic.

I’ve only used the back door twice in my life, both times were miserable. But he was so gentle that I felt next to no pain the entire time. Now I may or may not have felt sore in the morning, but that’s not the issue.

The issue was that he was there in the morning when I woke up, that wasn’t supposed to happen. It was supposed to be a hit and run type of thing. If he stayed the night, I would rather have him leave before I woke up. Making a clean break, no chance to regret anything. But he was there, his breathing slow and even while he slept, blissfully unaware of my minor panicking. I extracted myself from the arms that somehow had snaked their way around my waist, moving slowly as not to wake him up. I stand up and a small jolt of pain runs down my back.

“Ow, fuck.” comes out in a loud whisper, I whip my head around to make sure he’s still asleep. He shifts but doesn’t wake up. I look around for something to cover my lower half, I find last night’s boxers on the ground and pull them on. While I walk to the bathroom, stumble really, I realize that I’m not really that hungover. Thank God. I close the bathroom door behind me, walk over to the shower, turn it on and get in. Halfway through my shower I hear the shuffling of feet, followed by the rustling of clothes being picked up from the ground, and a muffled, “Crap!”. I hear his feet quickly move towards the front door, followed by a slam as I’m alone in my apartment again.

‘Hm, must have been late to work or something.’

I finish my shower, get dressed and head to the kitchen. I make myself the usual breakfast, Lucky charms and coffee, even though it’s not exactly breakfast time anymore. Don’t judge me, those things are fucking delicious. The coffee’s a little on the bitter side though, but I take what I can get. Glancing at the clock tells me I still have three hours before I have to head to work at five. I laze around in the living room, watching TV before I have to leave. I don’t even think about going into my bedroom, huge mistake I find out later on.

Any who, I work at this little bookstore named Scouting for Books, stupid name right? Okay, I don’t just work there, I’m kind of an assistant manager or something. The owners and managers of the store, Erwin Smith and Levi Akerman, were kind enough to let me have the position when I was fired from my last managing position. It was’nt my fault, I was framed for taking the money, I swear. And there I go again, getting off topic. Scouting was the best place to work, up until yesterday that is. Guess who works there with me. Come on guess. That’s right Eren fucking Jaeger, as well as Mikasa. Work was going to be great, I can just feel it.

Eren and Mikasa aren’t the only ones that work there, if they were I’d quit on the spot. Armin Arlert, whom I had a small fling with in college; Bertolt Hoover, Reiner Braun, Sasha Braus, and Connie Springer also work there. Sasha and Connie have been an item since they were sixteen, and Bertolt and Reiner have a thing, though they completely deny it. Everyone knows they’re lying. There’s also this one girl, Annie, that comes in all the time to hang with Reiner and Bertolt, I’m seriously questioning whether or not she has a job. There are also other people, but I don’t usually talk to them very much.

When I get to the store, to my pleasant surprise, I find that neither Eren nor Mikasa are working the night shift. Halle-fucking-lujah. I go to my office and quietly begin sorting through book orders and other such bookstore shit. After a while I get up and walk around, making sure things are in order and that Sasha isn’t raiding the snack bar in the break room, again. Satisfied, I walk back to my office and spend the rest of my shift doing paperwork, oh joy.

By the time I get home, which was about 1 in the morning, I’m so tired that I don’t even bother going to sleep in my bed. I crash on the couch to the hum of the TV in the background.

I wake up at 8:30, and finally make it to my bedroom. I’m picking through the clothes on the floor, sorting the clean from the not so clean, when I notice something that is distinctly not mine.

‘I have never once owned a dress shirt this fancy’, then realization dawns.

“Shit.”


	2. Introductions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys! I'm not dead! Just really lazy and stressed about school and trying not to fail two of my classes. Well here's the new chapter, it's a little dialogue heavy, so sorry about that. I'll try not to do that in future chapters. Also the next chapter will probably be out sooner than this one.  
> Anyway sorry for the delay, and here is the newest chapter of this shit.  
> Enjoy.

So, here we are back in the present, with me holding a shirt that is much too large and way too fancy for me. On a Saturday when I had to be at work at ten. This kind of thing only happens in movies right? The one night stand leaves something in the other persons room as they hurry to leave, and the other person tries to find the owner and they end up falling in love. This is bad, this is very, very bad. I wasn’t supposed to ever see him again and now I have his shirt, his probably super expensive shirt. What did he even wear out of the building? Shit, no, fuck this. I’m not having this romantic comedy bullshit happen in my house.

_But it’s probably super expensive, he probably wants it back_. Dammit. I throw the shirt on the bed, and something falls out of the pocket. A folded piece of paper.

“Oh, no he did not.” I think aloud as I walk over to pick the paper up, unfold it, and read it. Written in neat handwriting it says:

_So, this may be a little forward, but I would like to see you again. Maybe starting with a friends kind of thing, if that’s ok with you. If you haven’t noticed already, I may have left my shirt there, possibly on purpose. Anyway I actually would like it back, if it isn’t too much trouble. You can call or text me with a time and place to meet to hand it back._

_-M_

_P.S.- I’ll tell you my actual name when we meet ;)._

Under the postscript was a phone number.

“Shit, he did.” I flop the top half of my body onto the bed, knees on the floor, and groan into the sheets. This was not supposed to be the romantic comedy situation that it turned out to be. I don’t know how to handle this. I look at the phone number, sigh, put his “name” into my contacts and start typing out a message.

**To: not-so-one night stand**

_What’s w/ this shit?_

_It’s J btw_

I almost set my phone down when it buzzes, damn he’s quick

**From: not-so-one night stand**

_Hi! Whatever do you mean by that?_

**To: not-so-one night stand**

_You know exactly what I mean._

**From: not-so-one night stand**

_Oh, you mean the shirt thing? I just wanted an excuse to talk to you again._

_Is that so bad?_

I stare at the screen for a second in disbelief, then type a reply.

**To: not-so-one night stand**

_Um, yeah, it kinda is. What happened to the whole ‘one time deal’ thing?_

**From:  not-so-one night stand**

_Oh, that. I didn’t like that idea very much, well afterwards anyway._

This guy is unbelievable. He’s the one that came up with the ‘one time deal’ thing, now he doesn’t want to follow through? Seriously, what the hell? I start to reply when another message pops up.

**From:  not-so-one night stand**

_I know I came up with it, but you helped me through something that I would have had trouble getting through otherwise. Even if it was through unconventional means._

Great, now I’m starting to feel sorry for this guy.

**To:  not-so-one night stand**

_Fine. Can u meet me at Scouting for Books at noon today?_

I shit you not, no less than 30 seconds later I get an enthusiastic response.

**From: not-so-one night stand**

_Yeah! That’s perfect, I needed a new book anyway._

I throw my phone on to the bed, not bothering to reply, and head to the shower. Once I’m clean I throw on jeans and an old A7X T-shirt, thank you to Levi and Erwin for not having a strict dress code at the store. I grab a quick breakfast of toast and coffee, and head out the door at 9:30.

When I get to the store Levi is standing outside of my office. The short man was leaning against the door, tapping his foot, annoyed look on his face. That’s always a good sign.

“Good morning Levi. What can I do for you?” I put on a smile.

“First thing you can do is stop the smiling, it’s creepy. Second is: tell me why Eren and Mikasa are asking for different shifts than you.”

“Um, I don’t exactly know how to explain that.” a slight blush painting my cheeks.

“Shit, Mikasa dumped your ass for Jaeger, didn’t she?” his tone of voice was as bored as his expression.

“Y-yeah, something like that.” I can feel my face heating up even more.

“Fine, I’ll schedule you all differently, but only for a few weeks. You need to get over yourselves. Also you’ll most likely be coming in earlier, more than before.” And with that he pushed off of the door and walked away.

I mumble a weak, “Thank you” and go into my office, set my stuff down and go to the shift board to see who’s working now. Sasha, Reiner, a girl named Mina, and someone named Franz. I feel a light tap on my shoulder. I turn around and see Sasha standing there with a somber look on her face.

“Hey Jean, I heard you and Mikasa broke up.” the amount of pity in her voice was astounding.

“Oh, um, yeah, a couple days ago.” I say rubbing my hand on the back of my neck.

“You poor thing!” She flings her arms around me, successfully trapping me in a hug.

“Oi, Sasha I can’t breath, let go.” She quickly releases me and backs away. “I’m fine, it wasn’t that big of a deal anyway. I’m over it.” I give her a shaky smile, that probably wasn’t very convincing. But strangely enough, I was over it. Maybe mysterious Mr. M had something to do with that.

“That smile says otherwise,” A voice behind me speaks up, I turn around to face Reiner. Who, despite his humongous size, is actually very quiet. “Come on man, don’t lie to yourself.” He lays his hand on my shoulder.

“Guys, I’m really ok, I promise.” I shake Reiner’s hand off and walk away, the sounds of protest slowly getting quieter. I spend the next two hours, before my “not-so-one night stand” shows up to take back his shirt, stocking shelves and filling out paperwork.

By the time noon rolled around I was impatiently tapping my foot against the side of my desk. His shirt, neatly folded, lay on top of my desk. Why was I so nervous, or was I excited? I couldn’t tell anymore. The phone on my desk rang, yanking me, rather rudely, from my thoughts. I look at the little screen and see the name of the store, I pick it up.

“Hello?” I ask hesitantly.

“Yo, Jean there’s some guy asking for you, at least I think it’s you. Didn’t give a name, just a description.” I recognize Reiner’s voice on the other end. “Do I need to send him away or something?”

“No, I think I know him, I’ll be there in a bit.” I hang the phone up, grab the shirt and walk out of my office. While I’m walking to the front desk, I  progressively get more and more nervous. What reason do I have to be nervous? I don’t even know the guy, I mean, sure he was a good fuck, but that doesn’t qualify him as something. Right? By the time I get to the counter I was sweating a little bit and breathing heavier than normal. What was wrong with me?

“Hi, so your name is Jean.” Every freckle on his face shifting to accommodate his growing smile. I’m surprised he pronounced my name right, so many get it wrong. It’s not “Gene”, it’s fucking french.

“And, who told you that?” I question as I hand his shirt over to him.

“This guy,” he nods his head towards Reiner, “Reiner was it?”

Reiner answers with a positive. “Reiner, I’m going to take my lunch break, tell Levi or someone.” I start walking over to a low table with cushions as chairs and sit down. ‘M’ sits down next to me.

“So, you know my name. What’s yours?” I look to him, fully expecting a straight answer. What I get surprises me.

“That’s not important right now.” He waves his hand dismissively at me, “What’s important is, how you’re holding up.”

I can’t believe this guy, he’s the one that caught his boyfriend cheating on him, I just got dumped. Sure it was for someone else, but it wasn’t as bad.

“How I’m holding up? I’m fucking peachy, you’re the one that caught your boyfriend sleeping with someone else.” He visibly flinches at that, but I keep going. “He was cheating on you for three years, and you worry about me? I’m just a pathetic piece of shit who can’t even keep someone without them looking at someone else, but I’ve never caught someone cheating on me.” My voice was steadily growing louder, thus attracting attention from customers. I start again, lower this time. “I’m the one who should be worried about how you’re holding up. Plus we hardly know each other, so i don’t know why you or I are even bothering.”

He lowers his head, “Y-you may have a point-,”

“Damn right I do.” I cross my arms against my chest.

He lightly scoffs, “Anyway, my name’s Marco. And this may sound kind of desperate but,” he took a deep breath, like he was preparing for something, he says something so quietly I can’t hear him

“What?” I quirk an eyebrow in equal parts amusement and question.

Marco sighs, “I said, ‘if it’s okay with you, I kind of would like to know you better,’ but only if you feel up to hanging out with me.” after he finishes he hangs his head and looks at me from beneath his bangs.

I feel bad for him, I do, but I don’t think I can ‘hang out’ with him. I’ll just turn him down nice and easy.

“Marco,” _Come on Jean let him down easy_ , “I’d love to hang out with you sometime.” His whole face lights up, sad to ecstatic in a snap.

Wait, what? No, no, no, I didn’t mean to say that. I can’t do this, it was supposed to be a catch and release. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. _But look at how happy you made him._

I’m interrupted from my thoughts by Marco beaming, I can feel the happy radiating off of him.

“Oh Jean, that’s great!” He’s still smiling. “When are you free?!” he’s practically bouncing in his chair.

“Um, I’m not sure. I just got a new work schedule, so I’ll have to check that first.” I was fidgeting and I knew it, but I couldn’t stop. This was not what I wanted to happen.

“You work here, right?”

“Yeah, I’m an assistant manager. I actually don’t do much managing though. That’s Erwin and Levi’s job.” The fidgeting slowed when he switched topics.  _Strange._

“Oh, so Levi and Erwin, are they the owners or do they just manage the store?” Damn he asks a lot of questions.

“They do both, I suppose. They built this place about four years ago. Apparently after they got married they wanted to get out of their office jobs, so they opened this book store. Though in my opinion they could have chosen a different name.” Why am I saying so much? Maybe he’s just easy to talk to. Shut up self.

“I personally think that the name is great,” Marco pauses, “also it’s fantastic that Levi and Erwin got married.”

“Wait a second, you know them?” I ask

“Yeah, they used to work for my dad, so I saw them around the office sometimes.” He is looking intently at the table, like he regretted saying something. Then it clicked.

“Wait, is your last name Bodt?” I ask,

“Yeah, why?” his face a mixture of question and apprehension.

“I knew it!” I raise my arms in triumph, he looks at me like I had three heads, “So,” I lower my arms and rest my elbows on the table, thread my fingers together and rest my chin on them. “your dad’s Mr. Boss Man at Jinae inc. huh?”

“Uh, yeah, does that really matter?” his voice was calm with a hint of anger.

“No, no, I have no problem with that, Levi and Erwin said that the company was great. I was only curious, you just don’t seem like the kind of person that’s the son of a rich guy.”

“You wouldn’t think that when you see where I live.” His voice was back to the smooth, calm tone that it had been earlier.

“‘When?’” I ask, raising an eyebrow and smirking.

Marco flushes a deep red, “I-I didn’t mean anything by it, just a-just a slip of the tongue.” God help me, he is adorable.

“Chill dude, it’s fine.” My grin only growing wider, I might be starting to like this guy. Only a little bit though. I swear. We sit there in a somewhat uncomfortable silence. Until Marco breaks it.

“I was wondering if you-,” we both jump when the store’s intercom comes on.

“Jean Kirschstein, get your ass back to work, your break has been over for ten minutes.” There is a muffled, “Levi, this is a family store,” before there’s silence.

“Shit, sorry. I’ll text you later or something.” I move to get up, but I stop, “Also I didn’t get to eat lunch, so you owe me.”

“Oh, yeah sorry. So, I’ll see you later?” his words filled with hope. I stand up and brush imaginary dirt from my jeans.

“Most definitely.” I turn to say over my shoulder,walking back to the counter, but Marco calling my name stops me.

“Jean,” I turn around. “I forgot to mention this, but I like your piercings.”

“Thanks,” a slight bush covers my face, suddenly very aware of my lip and eyebrow piercings. My hand slowly moves to my face, to play with the ring in my lip.

“Those are nice, but I was talking about the _other_ ones.” Marco looks pointedly lower than my face, smirks, picks up his jacket, and leaves.

I was left standing still as a statue, every ounce of blood rushing to my face.

“Jean,” I jump at my name being called from behind me, I turn around to see Sasha. “hey man, you okay? Your face is really red.

“What?” My voice sounds strained, “Oh, yeah, I’m fine. I’m just gonna go...do something. Yeah, um, see you later.” I practically sprint back to my office. This isn’t good, we were just supposed to have a one night thing. And now he wants to be friends or some shit. Then he goes and complements my, um, less than conventional piercings. This was not going to end well.


	3. Surprise, Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sasha and Connie have exciting news and Jean starts with the secret keeping, not that Marco's any better

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, it didn't take me half a year to post this chapter. There's a bit of a trigger warning for a suicide mention. Don't worry none of my precious babies are even gonna think about it. Also a bit of PTSD or something similar.

How many times have you ever greatly regretted something that you had done on impulse? Well I can tell you I have regretted a great number of things before, but not so much as this instant. Why did I tell Sasha about Marco? God only knows.

“Jean has a date!” Sasha yells at Connie as he walks through the door of the bar

“Sash, I already told you, it’s not a date.”

“Sure it is, you all but begged him to take you to lunch. Speaking of food, Connie can you get some fries or something, I’m starving.” Connie grumbles, but complies and walks off in search of said nourishment.

“I didn’t beg him, I just said that he owed me lunch.” I pause. Shit, maybe I did beg. I press the heel of my hand to my forehead and let out an exasperated sigh.

“Told you.” Sasha smirks, “So, what’s Marco like?”

“You saw him didn’t you?” What’s taking Connie so long?

“Sure I saw him, he’s cute, but I didn’t talk to him.” she shrugs her shoulders,  “So, you’ll have to fill in the details.”

“Hey look, there’s Connie with food.” Thank you, Connie.

“Ooh food!.” she bounced it her seat like a three year old about to receive candy.

“Here we go,” Connie sets down a plate of cheese fries in front of Sasha, “fries for Sasha and wings for me.” He then sits down next to Sasha.

“Do you guys ever get anything different?” I ask

“Nope!” they say in unison.

“You guys are always in sync, just get married already, it’s been long enough.” I say, throwing my hands up.

Sasha and Connie both turn bright red. Then Connie says, “Actually, about that-”

“He asked me earlier today!” Sasha declares, smiling brightly

“Wait, what?” I look between the two, “Why am I just now hearing about it? Also I don’t see a ring.”

“Of course not, silly. We didn’t want anyone to know today, we were going to wait until later this week. But you just had to say something, didn’t you?” Sasha explains. She tugs at a chain around her neck, one I hadn’t noticed beforehand. Out from under her shirt came a simple, yet elegant ring; a gold band with a small half carat diamond embedded in it. I reach my hand out to examine it, she unhooks the necklace from around her neck and places the chain in my hand.

“Well Con-man, you’ve thoroughly outdone yourself. You are both very lucky to have found eachother.” I stand up and walk over to their side of the booth and give them each a hug. “And can I add something else?” I ask as I walk back to my seat.

Sasha and Connie exchange confused looks, Connie replies, “Sure”

“About goddamn time!” I say, smiling. The three of us collapse into laughter. We share laughs and a few stories for a couple of hours before they have to leave. I leave shortly after.

When I get home I collapse onto my bed, falling asleep the instant my head touches the pillow.

 

I wake up the next morning with a splitting headache and three new text messages. Two from Sasha and a newer one from Marco. I open the two from Sasha first.

**From: Potato Girl**

_Good morning Jean. Hope you’re not too hungover. Anyway, if you tell anyone about what Con and I told you last night you’re a dead man._

**From: Potato Girl**

_I mean it. Not. A. Word._

Okay...reminder to self; never get on Sasha’s bad side. I send a quick reply saying I would keep my mouth shut, then I check Marco’s message. I apparently hadn’t changed his contact name from earlier this week, so I switched it to something, slightly, more appropriate.

**From: Freckles**

_Hi. I was wondering if you were free on Saturday afternoon._

Before I can reply another message pops up.

**From: Freckles**

_If you’re not, that’s totally fine...I’m also free Sunday afternoon._

**To: Freckles**

_I checked my work schedule and I’m free after 1 on Saturday._

I set my phone on my bedside table and go to take a shower. While the hot water is streaming from the shower head onto my back, I think of a good reason as to why I’m going through with this thing with Marco. I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again; It was supposed to be a one night thing.

“Ahhh! Fuck you and your fucking million freckles!” I yell and rest my forehead on the cool tiles. I start talking to myself, “Maybe it’s not a terrible thing, I mean we both had been cheated on, so it’s kind of a mutual pity thing, right? Besides, in the words of Saving Abel, I’m not in love but the sex is good. Right?” I stand up straight again, “Fuck it.” I shut off the water, grab a towel, throw it around my waist, and walk to my bedroom. The tiny light on my phone is blinking white, a new message. Actually it’s two.

**From: Freckles**

_Great! You can pick the place or I can, either is fine. We can just meet there._

**From: Freckles**

_Actually just meet me outside of Wauters Flower Shop._

I have never heard of said flower shop, so I do a quick search and find out that it’s only ten minutes from my apartment. I quickly text him back.

**To: Freckles**

_That’s cool. I’ll just meet you there at 1:30ish then._

**From: Freckles**

_Yeah, that’s great. See you then._

I set the phone on my bedside table and only realize that I’m not dressed when my towel begins to slip. I let the towel fall to the floor. As I dig for a pair of boxers in my drawer, my hand brushes against cold metal. My hand instinctively jerks away, but not quickly enough. I already know what I touched and what comes along with it.

 

_“Mom, I’m home!” I wait for the hug that always greets me when I get home from school, except this time it doesn’t come. “Mom?” I check the driveway, her car is still there._

_I walk into the kitchen, nothing. I walk around the first floor; living room, bathroom, and office: nothing. I head toward the stairs, climbing them two at a time, slightly worried now._

_I check my room, the bathroom, and guest room. The last room to check is my mom’s. I hesitate as I reach for the doorknob, I don’t know why. I open the door slowly asking softly, “Mom?”_

_All of the horror and action movies I had seen couldn’t have prepared me for what is sprawled on the floor in front of the queen sized bed. The smell of hours old blood assaults my nose, sending me reeling. A slight sickeningly sweet aroma played on my tongue while the scent of copper flowed into my nose. I gag and quickly cover my nose and mouth. I stare down in fear at the pool of brownish red that surrounds my fallen mother. Blood has long since stopped flowing from the long, deep cuts on her wrists, dried remnants still cling to her too pale skin._

_I want to scream, but I’ve lost all knowledge of how. My feet are rooted to the spot, all I can think is: “Mom. Blood. Mom”_

_Mom_

_Blood_

**_So much Blood_ **

  


My eyes snap open, the ceiling is in front of me. _Damn, that hasn’t happened for a while. Why the fuck do I still have that thing?_  I try to stand up, but my vision swims and I fall back to the floor. I try again, I successfully stand up, but my legs are shaky as I walk to the bed. I sit down, but my heart is beating like crazy and my breathing is quick and shallow.

“OK Jean, breath in, breath out, you’ve been through this before.” _But someone was always there to help you._ “Dammit, I’ve gotta call someone.” With shaky hands, I scramble for my phone but stop short. Who would I call? Mikasa was the only one that helped me before. And I don’t want to ruin Sasha and Connie’s new engagement. I search my mind for someone, anyone that could help me. “Everyone at the store would probably laugh at me or something”. My hands start shaking more. _You could try calling Marco_ , “Why? I barely know him.” _Perfect! He has no room to say anything. Plus if he laughs or something, break it off, no harm no foul._  “Dammit, sometimes I hate me.”

I reach for my phone once more, hands still trembling. I tap Marco’s number and put the phone on speaker, and set it down again, not trusting my hands to hold it to my ear. I painfully wait through three rings before Marco picks up.

“Hello? Jean?”

I sit in silence, thinking, Oh, this was a bad idea.

“Jean, are you going to answer or not?” Marco’s voice had a hint of amusement in it.

“M-Marco, um, this is probably a bad time, but could you-” I take a deep, shaky breath, trying to calm my frantic voice, “could you just come to my apartment really quickly.” as an after thought I added a quick, pleading, “Please.”

“I never thought you would invite me over so soon.” He laughs

“It’s not that,” Dammit. My breaths come out short and fast, “I need help with something.” I can tell my voice is shaky and uneven.

“Are you okay? You don’t sound that great.” His voice was now serious and slightly worried.

“No, I’m not. Just-just please hurry over here.”

“Ok, but why did- no nevermind, I’ll ask when I get there. Which room are you in?”

“5C.” Just hearing someone’s voice seems to be starting to calm me down, but not much.

“I’ll be there in ten.” Marco hangs up and I’m left in deafening silence.

I sit on my bed, still shaking, almost violently now. I sit there for ten agonizing minutes before I hear knocking on my door. Four quick, almost frantic knocks. I try to get up but my legs are shaking too much to walk all the way to the door, so I pick up my phone and call Marco. I hear the click of him picking up, I don’t give him time to say a word, “Key, under mat. Use it.” Then I hang up. I struggle to grab the sheets and wrap them around me before he opens the door.

I hear the door open and close a few seconds later, then I hear footsteps heading towards my room. He apparently has a good memory.

“What’s wrong, Jean?” Marco is standing in the doorway to my room, concern flooding his face. I notice that he is slightly out of breath.

“I just need someone to-to talk about something, anything.” I pause, taking a shallow, shaky breath, “Just, please, start talking.”

Marco seems to think for a few minutes before he says, “Do you want to see my tattoo?”

“Wait, What?” The suddenness of his declaration surprises me. My breathing starts to even out, though I am still shaking. “Mr. Rich Boy has a tattoo?” I try to put on a grin but a violent shiver wipes it off my face.

“First off, I’m not rich, my father is. Also, yes, I do.” He smirks, “Am I the only one not allowed to have a tattoo? If I remember correctly, you have quite a few.”

“I mean, yeah I do, but I don’t remember you having one when we-” I choke on the words that almost came out of my mouth, a blush racing to my face.

Marco has the audacity to chuckle, “There’s a reason for that. You weren’t seeing much of my back, were you?” He moves to unbutton his shirt as I sit there, blubbering and beet red.

“Wait! I never said I wanted to see it.” I had grabbed his hand while trying to stop him, I quickly snatch my hand back.

“Well, do you?” A slight smile flitting across his face.

“I...uh...yeah.” I choke out, I can feel my face getting even redder.  

“Alright.” Marco starts unbuttoning his shirt. He slips it off and tugs his undershirt over his head. He sits down on the bed with his back facing me.

I take in a sharp breath and breathe out, “Wow.” The tattoo that ran down his back, with flowers on alternating sides of his spine. I run shaky fingers down his back, marveling at the intricacy of the piece. At the base of his neck is a blue flower outlined in white. On the right side of his spine there are three flowers: a black and orange day lily, a yellow and pink flower with several tiny, intricate petals; and one that looks like a zebra with a bright yellow center. The left side of his spine there are two flowers: one that has circular yellow petals outlined in red, and the other has petals that swirl together in the middle that fade from yellow to white. There are dark green vines snaking between each flower, one of the vines just stops, like it’s waiting for something to be added. I let my finger trail the last vine and drop to the bed.

“This is amazing.” I breath out. I notice my shaking stopped, and my breathing is almost normal. That has to be the quickest recovery I’ve had. He must be like some freckled Jesus.

“I know, I started it six years ago. I had one done every year in June, but I think I’m going to stop at ten.” He turns around, one leg hanging off the bed, one resting on the edge.

“I’m only guessing that there is a reason behind them?” I was curious now, his tattoos must have a reason. I mean mine don’t really, but he doesn’t look the type to just get one for the hell of it.

Marco grabs the back of his neck and looks away, “Not really, I just like flowers.” his says so quietly, I almost don’t hear him. He quickly replaces a look of sadness with one of inquiry. “So, why did you call me instead of one of your friends?”  

Now it’s my turn to look away, “I-I don’t know.” I really didn’t know, maybe he seems more friendly than all of the other people I know. Or maybe you like him a bit. Nope that can’t be it. Can’t it?

“Alright...do you wanna talk about what happened?” He reaches his hand out like he wants to touch my arm, but seems to second guess himself and withdraws it.

“I don’t really know what happened. I mean I have a vague idea, but I don’t know all of the details.” I don’t really know if I can trust him enough to let him know that part of my past. _Of course you can’t, you’ve known him for less than a week._ True, but what if- _Less than. A. Week_. “You know what, I’d rather not talk about it right now.”

“That’s fair, I suppose.” Marco gives me an understanding smile, like he knows what I’m going through. “How about we get you some water.” He offers me his hand, I reach to take it. I stop short when I remember I’m only wearing a sheet. Marco notices my hesitation, looks me up and down, then chuckles, “And some clothes.”

“Stop laughing at me!” I throw his undershirt at him, then I say, in my most serious voice, “And you go find the water while I get dressed.” I shoo him out of the room while he giggles. He fucking giggles. I sit on my bed for a minute or two, just thinking. How did I even recover that quickly? It usually takes at least an hour for me to be completely calm. Maybe he really is some freckled Jesus. I shake my head to clear my thoughts. I then grab a pair of boxers from the opposite side of the drawer from earlier, grab a pair of jeans off of the floor, and walk into the kitchen, not bothering to put on a shirt. I do grab Marco’s shirt though, he seems to forget them a lot.

When I enter the small kitchen Marco is reaching for a glass from a cabinet. Some of the cabinets were half open, evidence that he had looked through almost every other cabinet before finding the one that had the glasses in it. The only one to the right of the sink, which in my mind made sense. Keep the glasses next to the place where you get water. Anyway, I walk up behind Marco and poke his shoulder. He jumps a little bit and turns around clutching the glass in his hand.

“Jesus, don’t do that.” Marco says turning around to face me.

“Bit jumpy, are we?” I put on a small smile and take the glass from his hand.

He rubs the back of his neck with a nervous hand, “Yeah, I guess I always have been. How are you feeling?” he moved to run a calming hand down my arm, but stopped in mid-air. “Only if you want to talk about it of course.” He then lowers his half raised arm.

I think about it for a while. Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea if he knew about my mom. Maybe he’ll understand. Maybe he’ll know how to stop what happens. Maybe, maybe, maybe. There are too many “maybe”s and not enough “for certain”s. I can’t tell him. Well at least not right now. I don’t need to dump all of my problems on him.

“I can’t really talk about it right now, maybe later.” I turn to the faucet to fill up my glass. I feel his eyes on my back, so I turn around. The expression on his face is one of understanding and a minuscule amount of hurt. When he notices me looking he just smiles.

“That’s fine, if and when you ever want to talk about it, I’m here.” Marco seems to get the nerve up to put his hand on my shoulder, but only for a second before he snaps it back to his side. He then looks at his watch. Panic suddenly takes over his features. “Crap, I said I was going to be gone for no more than an hour. I gotta go. I’ll see you later?” He turns around and rushes towards the door.

“Yeah.” I reply, but he’s already out the door. I look back to the glass in my hand while thoughts race around in my head. None of them are bad, but they aren’t exactly good things to be thinking about the guy that just ran out of my apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those that know more about PTSD that I do, sorry if I got anything wrong. I did some research, just not too extensive. So feel free to give some tips or the like in the comments, it'd be much appreciated.

**Author's Note:**

> First fanfic ever, so tell me how I did, please and thank you. I've never been drunk, so if that was an incorrect interpretation, sorry. A fair warning to those that might read on; I've never written smut, ever, so good luck.
> 
> also I have a Tumblr: http://carlestheninja.tumblr.com/


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